The Physician's Irish Lady

by Susan Macatee

  Knowing Millie worked beside her comforted her, easing memories of a troubled past. She loved this house and what she’d seen so far of this town. She hadn’t felt this happy and content since she’d been a wee lass.

  After shoving the final loaf in the oven, Keara wiped her hands on her apron and turned to Millie. “What would you have me do now, Aunt Millie?”

  Millie beamed. “Why don’t you go out back and pump some water? We’ll heat it to wash the pans once they’ve cooled.”

  Keara stepped out the back door and grabbed the bucket by the pump. She inhaled a deep breath. The air had turned balmy in the late afternoon sun. She pumped water until the bucket filled, then carried it back into the kitchen to set beside the stove.

  Millie sat at the table. “I think we can take a rest while the bread bakes. Why don’t we sit and get to know one another better?”

  Keara smiled and sat, accepting the cup of tea. “Didn’t know you had tea water heating.” She stirred a bit of honey into the brew.

  “Always thinking ahead. I love to sit and take a tea break mid-afternoon.”

  Keara nodded. “I was wondering, Aunt Millie…Dr. James told me about a boardinghouse in town. We passed it on the way in. Would you be knowing anything about the house and owners?”

  “Oh, yes.” Millie nodded. “A good friend of mine, a reputable widow, runs the house. Her name is Eunice Lang. She has a young son who assists her and a few young women in her employ.” Millie frowned. “But why do you want to know about it?”

  “Well…I thought I might get a room there.”

  “Whatever for?” Millie spread her hands. “We have ample room here.”

  Keara frowned. “Are you sure it’s all right with Dr. James? I wouldn’t want to be imposing on your hospitality.”

  Millie leaned forward. “I’ve already spoken with Elliot myself. He agrees it would be best if you stayed here for now.”

  “For the time being, I accept yer kind offer.” Keara would stay put for now, but she still wasn’t ready to trust any man. She’d be better off out of his house and eventually out of this town.

  ****

  Elliot drove his mare a bit harder than usual to shorten the trip home. If the man looking for him had found his house, the women might be in danger. His pulse thundered as he entered town.

  Bursting in the door, he glanced around for any sign of disarray. “Aunt Millie,” he called.

  “In the kitchen,” came the muffled reply.

  Elliot strode to the door, shoving it open. He sighed in relief at the sight of his aunt stirring a pot on the stove and Miss Fagan at the table slicing carrots. She turned to him, a smile lighting her face.

  His heart melted at the tranquil scene. He’d feared the worst.

  “We’re just getting dinner ready,” Millie explained. “How is Mrs. Martin doing?”

  “She’ll be just fine,” Elliot said. He hesitated, glancing from one woman to the other. “Did anyone come to the house today while I was out?”

  “Why no.” Millie shook her head. “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s something Dale told me.” He glanced at Miss Fagan. “He said an Irishman stopped by the farm and claimed to know me.”

  Miss Fagan stiffened but offered no explanation.

  “How strange.” Millie wiped her hands on her apron and sat at the table. “I had a dream about a man chasing Miss Fagan.”

  Elliot’s gaze shot across the table. Miss Fagan froze mid slice. “I don’t know why a man would be chasing after me, Aunt Millie.” She swallowed, her gaze darting to Elliot.

  “I’m sure it’s your imagination working overtime, Aunt,” he said.

  Millie huffed.

  Elliot smiled at their houseguest, but she still seemed tense. A knock at the front door caused her to jump, nearly slicing her finger. Elliot strode to her side, but she waved him off. “I’m fine.”

  “I’ll see who’s at the door. You ladies stay put.” Elliot hurried to the foyer, peering through the side window. A stocky man stood outside.

  He hesitated, glancing back to be sure his aunt and guest hadn’t followed, then opened the door.

  The man wore a bowler, and definitely had reddish hair and a ruddy face, but Elliot had never seen him before. “May I help you, sir?”

  The man frowned. “I’m looking for a doctor by the name of James.” He shifted as if trying to peer around Elliot for a view inside the house.

  Elliot folded his arms across his chest and spread his feet trying to block any view, hoping the women wouldn’t venture to the door. “I’m Dr. Elliot James.”

  “Ah, just the man I’m looking for.” The man smirked.

  “Are you in need of medical assistance, sir?”

  “No, Doctor. Me name is Rogan Morrissey, and I learned you arrived in town in the company of a young woman.”

  Elliot tensed. “And why is that a concern of yours, Mr. Morrissey?”

  “Me wife run off and I’ve been trailing her all the way from New York City.”

  “Your wife?” Elliot raked his gaze over the man. Could he be Miss Fagan’s husband?

  ****

  Millie set serving bowls and plates on the kitchen table. The delicious aroma of mashed potatoes, pork chops, boiled carrots, and green beans drifted through the big room. “We’ll eat in the dining room tonight,” she said. “Take these in.” She indicated the platter of meat and bowl of potatoes. “I’ll bring in the rest.”

  Keara nodded and lifted a plate in one hand, bowl in the other. She pushed through the kitchen door and set the plates on the dining table. Elliot still hadn’t returned from the entry door.

  Millie stepped in behind her. “Why, I wonder what’s taking my nephew so long?”

  “You sit down, Aunt Millie. I’ll go see what he’s up to.”

  Millie sat with a sigh. Keara walked to the entry hall, halting at the sound of voices. Male voices. She froze as she recognized an Irish accent. She pressed herself against the wall and strained her ears. If Rogan had found her, what would she do?

  ****

  Rogan dropped his gaze hoping to appear a wronged husband.

  “You traveled all the way from New York City, you say?” The doctor’s gaze slid over Rogan, but he made no move to admit him into the house.

  “Aye, Doctor. Me and me wife married just before leaving Ireland for the new world. We planned to find lodgings and set up a shop, but when we arrived in New York, she grew weepy over leaving her home and family. I found lodgings in a tenement, and before we’d spent our first night there together, she left. I feared she’d be harmed, or worse, all alone in a strange country, and I’ve been following her trail ever since. The station master in York told me he’d seen a woman like I described in the company of a local physician. He pointed me here.”

  Rogan gripped his hat in both hands, hoping his hang dog expression would impress the man.

  “Tell me, Mr. Morrissey, what is your wife’s name?”

  “Her name is Keara. Keara Morrissey. But before we married, she went by the name of Fagan.”

  The doctor gaped but stood his ground.

  “Please, Doctor, if you’ve seen me wife, you have to help me.”

  ****

  Keara pressed her back against the wall, her pulse thundering and hands trembling at the lies Rogan told Dr. James. How dare he claim her as his wife!

  Swallowing her fear of revealing herself to the devil, she fisted her hands and strode to the door. “Dr. James, this man is lying!” She pointed at Rogan, who smirked in answer. “I’ve never laid eyes on him in me life!”

  Dr. James turned in her direction, a scowl forming. “I told you to stay in the kitchen with Aunt Millie. What are you doing out here?”

  Keara wrung her hands. “Yer aunt asked me to bring you to the table. Dinner is ready.”

  “Please go back to the kitchen, Miss Fagan. I’ll deal with our guest.”

  “Guest?” Keara frowned at Rogan.

  “Miss Fagan…” the
doctor repeated.

  Keara turned and stepped back to the dining room but feared Rogan would convince the doctor she belonged to him. She’d not return with him and would continue running if she saw no other way out.

  Chapter Five

  Once Keara had retreated, Rogan noted the look of distrust on the physician’s face. “Doctor, you must believe me. The woman is me wife.”

  The doctor shook his head. “I can’t go on your word, sir. You’re a stranger. I’ll not turn a young woman over to just anyone who makes a claim on her.”

  Rogan sucked his cheeks. “Please, sir, there must be a way I can claim me wife. Have you ever been married?”

  “No, sir, I haven’t. But if she says she’s not your wife, how am I to believe you? You must give me absolute proof.”

  “But I’ve come all the way from New York City. I can’t go back without her. If you’ll allow me to speak to her, I’ll be able to convince her to return with me.”

  The doctor shook his head. “I can’t allow that.”

  Rogan’s face heated. “I’ll go to the law then. You can’t deny me access to me wife.”

  James pointed. “Go straight in that direction. If you can’t find the sheriff’s office, someone in town will show you the way.”

  “I’ll do that.” Rogan set his hat on his head and strode to his wagon. He would see the sheriff, and once he had the law on his side, the haughty doctor would have no choice but to turn Keara over to him.

  ****

  Keara sat at the kitchen table wringing her hands while the dinner cooled outside on the dining table. She feared Dr. James would take Rogan’s side and turn her over to him. After all, men stuck together.

  Millie sat beside her and reached for her hands. “Don’t fret so, dear.” She leaned forward. “I told you I had a dream about a man chasing you.”

  Keara shook her head. “I don’t understand why he would come after me. I don’t know the man. Never laid eyes on him in me life.” She gazed at Millie fearing the clairvoyant woman would see the lie in Keara’s eyes. But she couldn’t tell her, tell any of them, the truth.

  Footsteps echoed outside the kitchen. Keara tensed, fearing Dr. James would appear with Rogan to lay claim to her. But he had no legal right to her. She lifted her fist to cover her mouth.

  Dr. James entered the kitchen, Rogan nowhere in sight.

  Keara trembled, hoping the doctor had seen through Rogan’s lies.

  “What happened out there, Elliot?” his aunt asked. “Miss Fagan is visibly upset and a bit pale.” She gazed at Keara, patting her hand.

  Elliot sighed. He sank into one of the vacant chairs. When his gaze rose to meet Keara’s, she fought the urge to turn away in shame.

  “The man at the door is an Irishman from New York City. He claims…” He hesitated. “He claims Miss Fagan is his wife, and he’s come to bring her home.”

  Keara’s face heated, and she clasped her hands in her lap. “I told you, the man is lying. I’ve never laid eyes on him before.”

  Dr. James frowned. “Makes it all the more puzzling, Miss Fagan.”

  “Why is that?” Millie asked.

  “Why, he knows her name and knows I escorted her from the train in York.” He turned his gaze on Keara. “If you’ve never seen him before, how would he know all this?”

  Keara tensed, not sure what she could say to convince him.

  Millie leaned forward, reaching for her nephew’s hand. “The man is evil, Elliot. You mustn’t allow him to take Keara. You must protect her.”

  ****

  Elliot scowled at his aunt’s pronouncement. She’d always been eccentric as far back as he could remember and did seem astute in predicting deaths. But those family members and friends had been ill to begin with.

  Much as he hated to admit it, this man must be the Irishwoman’s husband. Why else would he follow her?

  He glanced at Miss Fagan, if that was her name. She sat with head bowed. He’d likely not get any information from her now.

  “The man claimed to be Mr. Morrissey searching for his runaway wife.”

  Miss Fagan visibly tensed but didn’t look up.

  “Where is he now?” Millie locked gazes with Elliot.

  “I sent him to see the sheriff. I need proof before I’ll release anyone to a stranger.”

  Miss Fagan’s shoulders relaxed a bit. Her gaze rose to meet his. “He’s a dangerous man.”

  Millie nodded.

  Elliot frowned. “But you told me you’d never laid eyes on him, Miss Fagan. How would you know this?”

  “I, ah…” She shook her head.

  “He is dangerous,” Millie said. “Don’t let him take Keara. He’ll do her harm.”

  Elliot blew out a breath. “I think we must allow Sheriff Buckley to sort this out. He’s a fair man. He’ll require proof before he’d take the man’s word.”

  Miss Fagan nodded, but her lips twitched. Elliot wished he knew the truth of the matter. She seemed to be hiding something.

  He stood. “Pardon me, ladies. I should take a walk to the sheriff’s office and see what’s going on.”

  He left the kitchen, grabbing his coat and hat on the way to the door. He’d see if this man, Morrissey, had any proof, because he sure as hell wouldn’t turn Miss Fagan over without it.

  ****

  Keara walked back and forth over the kitchen floor as Millie sat at the table fretting. “What could be taking Elliot so long? This man can’t possibly have proof to back up what he’s saying.” Millie’s gaze rose to meet Keara’s.

  “No, Aunt Millie.” Keara clenched her arms over her chest. “He is not me husband.”

  “But you do know him,” Millie stated.

  “I…” Keara paced again.

  “Don’t worry about it, my dear.” Millie rose and wrapped an arm around Keara, stopping her. “Elliot would never allow that evil man to take you.”

  “But what if the sheriff believes him?” Keara’s shoulders sagged. She’d not go back to New York with Rogan. She’d rather die.

  Millie hugged her, then rubbed her back. “I won’t let Elliot give you up. Let’s go into the parlor and wait for his return.”

  Keara nodded but plotted her escape if he did turn her over to Rogan.

  ****

  Rogan stood with arms crossed over his chest in the small office as Dr. James spoke to the deputy.

  “The sheriff will be by real soon, Doc,” the small, squirrelly young man explained. “You know we don’t have much going on around here.” The deputy stared at Rogan.

  The doctor turned to him and shrugged. “We’ll have to wait.”

  Rogan scowled. “So he told me already.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “I don’t have all day, ye know.” He glared at the deputy. “Me wife and I have a train to catch.”

  “You gentlemen will just have to take a seat,” the deputy offered.

  Rogan glanced at two available chairs against the wall. The doctor motioned to the one nearest the door. Rogan groaned and sat, huffing.

  The doctor took the seat by the window. He glanced outside, then cleared his throat. “So, tell me, Mr. Morrissey, how long have you and Miss Fagan been married?”

  “It’s Mrs. Morrissey,” Rogan growled. “I told you we married just before leaving Ireland.”

  “But she claims she’s never seen you before in her life.” The doctor folded his arms across his chest.

  “Of course she would lie,” Rogan protested. “She’s been running from me since just after we arrived in this country.”

  “And is there a reason she would run from you?” The doctor pinned Rogan with his sharp gaze.

  “I told you, she’s homesick.”

  Dr. James shook his head. “I’d think missing her home and family would make a woman cling all the more to the man she loved.”

  Rogan scowled. The door opened and a tall, lean muscled man with wavy, sandy-colored hair, stepped inside. He wore the badge of sheriff. Rogan jumped up to greet him.

 
The man’s gaze scanned the room. His light colored eyebrows shot up. “Is there a problem here, Doc?”

  The doctor gestured toward Rogan. “This man showed up at my door claiming the woman I brought home with me last night is his wife.”

  “You don’t say?” The sheriff turned his attention to Rogan.

  “That’s right, Sheriff.” He scowled at Dr. James. “This man is holding me wife in his home and won’t allow me to see her.”

  The sheriff shook his head. “Give me a minute to sort all this out, gentlemen.” He stepped to his desk. The deputy shot up.

  “Right, Jim. Reckon we should file a claim.” He nodded at Rogan. “I thought it best to wait for you before I asked any questions.”

  The sheriff nodded. “You did good, Andy.” He took the seat the deputy had vacated and motioned to the two men. “So, what’s this all about, Doc?”

  Rogan folded his arms across his chest as the doctor sighed. “A woman fainted on the train traveling from Philadelphia to York. I gave her aid, and she told me her destination was York to visit relatives. Turns out, she has no one in York, so I brought her to town. Thought Mrs. Lang could put her up at the boardinghouse.” He hesitated.

  The sheriff nodded encouragement.

  “She stayed in my house last night because we arrived home late. Then I had a patient to visit. Didn’t have a chance to take her over to Mrs. Lang’s yet.”

  The sheriff turned his gaze on Rogan. “And what’s your story, sir?”

  Rogan pulled himself up to his full height. “Me name is Rogan Morrissey. I’ve come from New York City but just arrived on a boat from Ireland. Me wife got homesick and ran off. I’ve been chasing her to bring her back home.”

  The sheriff frowned. “And you say your wife is the very same woman the doc brought home?”

  “Aye, sir.” Rogan nodded, his face coloring.

  “I do hope you have proof you’re married to the lady.”

  “Proof?” Rogan sputtered.

  “Yes, sir. Such as a marriage license, or a witness to this union? If she denies your claim, I’ll need proof before I can release her to you.”